House of Black
by J.L.Finch
Summary: Her wand broken and her back a Death Eater target, Harriet Potter is thrown into war and made to battle her own mind. She demands her place in the Order of the Phoenix, but the command backfires when she is forced to take a Vow on her life. She finds herself trapped in her godfather's family home, struggling with her feelings for him and finding little place to hide the truth.
1. Straw On A Broken Back

AN: This takes place shortly after the dementors attack Harry and Dudley at the beginning of Order of the Phoenix, starting with the hearing for Harry's use of underage magic against them. It's loosely based on some of the events that happen in the book. Any and all criticism is welcome! I try to get back to everyone who leaves a comment, so please do! Feel free to leave a review of what you think or PM me.

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"Late to your own hearing, are you girl?" Madam Bones glared down her thin nose at Harriet. "You may think you own the wizarding world, Ms. Potter, but I assure you that is not the case."

"I..." Harriet swallowed thickly, her words caught in her throat not for the first time that morning. "I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"That the time of the hearing was changed?" Madam Bones quickly supplied. "An owl was sent to your residence ahead of time."

"I'm sorry," Harriet apologized again, knowing little else to do with herself. They'd sent the owl to Privet Drive no doubt, but it wasn't as though she could simply _explain_ to them that she'd been snatched up by the Order and living in their secret headquarters ever since the attack. "I live with muggles. They don't like owls. Or me. They must have taken the letter and thrown it away..."

Madam Bones raised her hand to quiet her, not caring for Harriet's explanation in the slightest. "You'd do well not to tell any more _stories_, Ms. Potter."

"Take your seat," Fudge ordered, taking great in joy in being able to do so, and waved his wand so that a chair was whisked to the center of the courtroom floor. "I'd rather not waste my morning here if I can help it."

He smiled and some of the court chuckled in agreement. Fudge had clearly already made up his mind about how this would end - had made up some of their minds, too. But it was the farthest thing from her mind as she caught sight of which chair it was he'd sent.

It made a horrible scraping noise as it traveled to her. A tremor to ran down Harriet's spine at the sound. It wasn't so long ago that she'd seen Barty Crouch sitting in the exact same chair, the long silver chains locked to his wrist and cuffing him there along with his fellow Death Eaters on trial. The one's who had tortured Neville's parents...

Those chains were twinkling at her now, inviting her to take a seat. She was going to be sick...

Harriet took care to balance herself on the very edge.

She felt hot. Like one of the ants trapped under Dudley's magnifying glass when they were children. There were at least fifty members of the court staring down at her from the pulpit, all with the same appraising look in their eye.

Percy Weasley sat to her right. He did not meet her heated look or give her any sign of recognition, quill poised at the ready to copy down notes for his beloved Minister. He glanced up at Fudge from over his small framed glasses, being especially careful not to let his gaze pass over Harriet. It made her nauseous and furious all at once. "Ready, sir."

Fudge gave an appreciative nod to him, coughed to clear his throat, then called the court into order. "Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harriet Lily Potter, resident of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

Percy copied all of that down quickly. It reminded Harriet of Rita Skeeter and her Quick-Quotes Quill, how it anxiously scribbled away at the parchment for her without Rita having to ever move her hand. Surely Percy could afford one as nice as hers with all the money he was getting being Fudge's personal assistant, his lapdog - from being so much more 'ambitious' than his father.

Harriet thought he ought to be ashamed of himself, but the feeling did not last long. Fudge was nearly finished going through his rather long list of attendees, sweeping away any other concerns she might have had. She couldn't recognize any of the names, aside from his own and Percy's. Her heart was thrumming against her ribs as he finished on a rather soundly 'Logain Pubumpkin'.

"Very good. Now that we're all accounted for-"

"You should add that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is standing as Ms. Potter's defense, of course."

"Oh," Fudge grimaced as Dumbledore entered the courtroom, tapping his fat fingers against the wooden slat in front of him. "_You're_ here. I see you got our letter about the rescheduling, then?"

"No, I'm afraid I missed it. However, I _did _come three hours early. So it wasn't any trouble at all."

"How fortunate..."

"Rather unfortunate that I was unable to receive the letter to begin with, I would say. But, ah well."

Dumbledore looked calm in the face of everything, and Harriet's fastly beating heart swelled with hope. If anyone could sort this out it would be him. She was going to make it out of this.

...Only he wasn't looking at her, she realized. No matter how long she stared at him, hoping he would give her some sort of sign that everything _would_ be okay, he never looked her way. Harriet's brows furrowed, wondering why that was before her attention was forcible snapped back to Fudge.

"You are Harriet Jane Potter of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, correct?"

"Yes," she answered. Sirius's words hung fresh in her mind. Stay calm and stick to the truth. Everything will work itself out. "Yes. I am."

"You received an official, documented warning from the Ministry for a similar incident concerning your use of underaged magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes, but-"

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?"

"Yes," said Harriet. "but-"

"_Knowing_ that you are not permitted to use magic outside of your institution of learning while under the age of seventeen?"

"Yes, but-"

"Fully aware that you were in a muggle populated area?"

"YES, but I only used it because we were-"

"A fully fledged patronus? That's a highly advanced bit of magic," commented Madam Bones, looking at Harriet now with something other than harsh criticism. "Tell me, child, what form does your patronus take?"

"A stag," Harriet felt breathless now; were they ever going to let her explain herself? "Professor Lupin taught me in third year because of the-"

"And at such a young age, too. That's very impressive."

"Advanced magic in the plain view of a muggle," Fudge spat, effectively killing off any positive thought about her that may have entered the room. "I'd say that's a far bit more than impressive, Amelia, that's dangerous."

"I only did it because of the dementors!" Harriet shouted. "I was protecting myself!"

"Dementors? That's preposterous, there are no dementors in muggle suburbs! That's quite the cover you've thought up for yourself, Ms. Potter. Muggles can't see dementors, can they? Very convenient for you. Only your word then, no witnesses?"

"I'M NOT LYING! Why else would I use a patronus? There were two of them, and one of them went after my cousin - the muggle -, I had to save him, they were going to kiss him! I-"

"ENOUGH." Fudge looked ready to set a dementor on her right where she sat. "I do so hate to interrupt your wonderful performance, which was very well rehearsed indeed, but I'm afraid if you have no witnesses..."

Harriet began to shake. No witnesses. She was _really _going to be sick this time. Why hadn't anyone prepared her for that? She'd been protecting herself, doing the job others had neglected to do, and they... they were going to...

"Pardon me, Cornelius, but I am afraid someone _did _witness the attack. If you'll excuse me. Mrs. Figg! Yes, yes, come in please."

Harriet's head was still swimming when the old woman scooted into the room in her fuzzy carpet slippers. Dumbledore had brought a witness - _the _witness! Hope instantly swelled in her again. Mrs. Figg had been there that night to see it all, screaming to the high heavens about Mundungus' lack of vigilance. Surely she could help them change their minds about what happened that night, even if she was a squib!

"Can you lot see dementors?" asked a balding man from one of the higher benches, skeptical of the Mrs. Figg already. Obviously he thought she'd been fed lies for them or bribed to the stand, but Harriet knew better than anyone that Mrs. Figg would not have budged from her home if it meant she'd have to tell a lie.

"Yes, we can! They're black, in cloaks, and bring out the worst in people," Her usually wavering tones had so much strength in them that Harriet hardly recognized her. "This girl is telling the truth, which is more than I can say for _some _people. Two dementors attacked her and that horrible muggle cousin of hers and they just about killed them. Perhaps you should worry more about where your guards are going than picking on an innocent girl!"

"HARDLY INNOCENT." Fudge roared, astounded by the mere suggestion of Harriet being such a thing. He pounded his fist. "As far as I'm concerned, this woman could not see a dementor if one were a centimeter from her face! There is no evidence that they were there!"

"_If_ there were though, perhaps it would not be a coincidence," Dumbledore cut in. "That the dementors were in Little Whinging that night."

"Are you suggesting the Ministry attacked this girl?" Fudge asked with a pained laugh, using his hand to gesture wildly that Percy show Mrs. Figg the way out.

"Don't touch me." Mrs. Figg hissed at Percy, her heels clicking loudly as she shuffled back out of the courtroom. Harriet turned in the chair and caught the sudden look of remorse on her babysitter's withered face before the door slammed shut.

"Not at all," Dumbledore answered coolly, as if what had happened to Mrs. Figg had not actually happened at all. "In fact, I have all confidence in the Ministry. I do expect there will be a full investigation into these claims?"

"It is not for you to decide what the Ministry does or does not do!" he yelled, his full cheeks inflamed with indignation.

"Of course not. Just as it is not yours to decide whether or not Harriet is expelled from my school."

"No," Fudge agreed readily, his fat chin still quivering with rage. "But we can assure that Harriet never touches a wand again. I will say it for you once more, Dumbledore, in case your hearing has gone bad as well as your mind. There. Are. No. Dementors. Outside of the Ministry's control. This was all obviously made up, so I say we put this to a vote now and get back to work. Yes?"

Harriet froze. She felt that her heart had plummeted down to the pit of her stomach. They were going to do it, weren't they? They were going to take it all away from her, over this... over protecting Dudley, protecting herself... it wasn't even her fault, really...

"All in favor?"

Her eyes stung and she fought not to show it. Hands flew up and she couldn't- she couldn't count how many. One, three, seven, fifteen _at least_...

No, the hearing should have lasted longer. She'd not said very much at all, no one had said very much, and she was certain she'd not made any kind of good impression like Mrs. Weasley told her to... twenty... twenty five...

If they only gave her one more chance to explain herself, to remind them of how horrible the dementors were and how close they were to kissing Dudley, they'd _have _to change their minds. She was defending herself, wasn't that allowed?! Everyone had said it was! Everyone had said they'd had no case and not to worry!

Everyone had said that her luck couldn't possibly run out.

"I'm so sorry, Harry." Dumbledore whispered to her from somewhere behind her head, taking a hand to her shoulder and pulled her up by her shirt. She couldn't stand on her own and he knew it. In her heart, she felt she'd already known the verdict, but... she'd never imagined...

"Let the motion pass," Fudge slammed his gavel down and the sound of it felt like she'd been shot. "Let it be known that Harriet Lily Potter is no longer permitted to possess a wand. If she is detected doing so for _any _reason at all, a lifetimes sentence in Azkaban will follow. You may hand over your wand to the Ministry now, Harriet. I am deeply sorry that it turned out like this, but you must understand. We cannot excuse you of being so irresponsible simply because you _used _to be a bit of a celebrity."

It was as good as if he'd slapped her. Celebrity had nothing to do with it, she didn't want this. She didn't ask for any of this! They were taking away the only thing that could protect her from Voldemort. It was the death penalty, a public execution. She was as good as dead.

Surely Dumbledore had some sort of plan, why wasn't he saying anything?!

Before Harriet could reach for it herself - to take it and run -, Dumbledore's hand plucked her wand from her back pocket. She watched in a trance as his arm moved forward toward Fudge. No, no she didn't want to give it up...

"Like I said, Harriet." Her heart stopped. "I am... _deeply_... sorry."

_Crack_.

Without looking at her, Dumbledore turned and swept from the room. She was so close to falling without his support, but evidently he didn't care. Fudge's apology buzzed ruthlessly in her ears.

The Wizengamot all got to their feet, talking amongst themselves and gathering their things. It was all in a days work for them. But Harriet was stranded, left to bleed out and die like a wounded animal. They all filed out in a blur of robes and satisfied faces.

...She had to leave.

Harriet steeled herself. Moving mechanically, she swung open the courtroom door where the cold air hit her face like a brash realization of reality and the lights dimmed to near darkness. She felt blinded by the tears she'd trapped in her eyes. Taking only one step forward, she slammed directly into Mr. Weasley. He looked pale, but upon seeing her he turned green.

"Dumbledore didn't say..."

"They did it." The words were torn from her throat. She couldn't keep control over her emotions like this; she didn't want to talk about it. "Can you take me back now? Please?"

"Oh love, I'm so sorry. None of us-"

She was sorry too. But she didn't think she could stand being in the same building with the people who took _everything _away from her a second longer. She marched past him, hardly keeping it together but determined to do so for as long as she could anyway. "Take. Me. Back. _Please_."

"R-right," Mr. Weasley stammered in her wake. "I have that toilet in Bethnal Green to deal with so we can leave now. If you like. This way."

Mr. Weasley called the lift for them, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Harriet wiped her cheek on her sleeve, staring at the door at the opposite end of the hall instead. _Department of Mysteries _read the dusty plaque nailed to it, the tarnished silver gleaming in the torchlight.

_Department of Mysteries, Department of Mysteries, Department of Mysteries _\- Mr. Weasley took her by the arm and the lift closed behind them.

The sound of her wand snapping in half played over and over in her mind. She could still see it, splintered and broken, and she was quite certain she'd never stop seeing it. She'd never do magic again, she'd never see Hogwarts again...

Maybe she could be like Hagrid and be allowed to stay on the grounds. The thought wasn't as comforting as it ought to have been.

The doors to the lift shook open and Mr. Weasley ushered her out. He took her by the arm again, hand secured around her elbow, and he kept his head down. Steering her in another direction, he said so low that only she could hear, "This way, Harriet. This way."

Harriet's head whipped around to where he was pulling her away from, not wanting to miss a thing anymore - not a _single _thing. In the middle of all the Ministry workers rushing about to get to their offices was Lucius Malfoy, talking in earnest to Fudge beside the fountain.

Her blood ran cold.

She remembered that night in the graveyard so vividly. She'd been seeing it every night in her dreams since. It was Pettigrew cutting through her arm and feeding her blood to that, that abomination. It was Lucius Malfoy's eyes, silver and full of hate, peering through the slits in his mask. It was his voice shouting the killing curse at her, Cedric limp in her arms.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE!" Harriet shouted into the piercing quiet of the offices. Mr. Weasley failed to drag her away in time. Everyone was giving them looks, but all she could see was red. All she could see was Cedric. "YOU CAN FOOL EVERYONE ELSE, BUT YOU CAN'T FOOL ME. I WAS THERE."

Mr. Weasley's grip on her shoulders was starting to hurt. His fingers dug into her skin. He was no longer being gentle about it - they needed to go. Now. But Harriet couldn't help her cries any longer, tears streaming down her cheeks as the two men turned away from her as if she were nothing to them but an embarrassing display. "I know what you are... I was _there_."


	2. Spitting Not Nails, But Blood

Following his rousing party the night before, the young man who lived in number 11 Grimmauld Place had indulged himself in a bit of a lie-in. This allowed Harriet to finally put a face to the name as she and Mr. Weasley slowly made their way up the sidewalk. The man's eyes were bloodshot and weary as he trotted down the worn steps to his stoop, a rubbish bag fit to burst and clinking with empty bottles held loosely in his hand. From what she understood, the haggard look was not unusual for him. Members of the Order coming into the headquarters from the outside were always complaining that their neighbor was up at some ghastly hour again, drinking and playing his obnoxiously loud music.

Harriet had never heard him herself. The headquarters was soundproofed against all other buildings in the area. Nothing could come in or out, Lupin had explained, though that hadn't stopped Mrs. Weasley from griping about 11's lack of common courtesy.

The man snorted as Harriet and Mr. Weasley approached, sounding sick, before stuffing his garbage noisily into the bin on the curb. He squinted hard against the sun, using his shirt to wipe off the sweat on his forehead, and then retreated back into his building.

"Funny. Muggle systems, I mean..." Mr. Weasley commented conversationally as 11's door closed shut. "They have no way to expel it themselves so they have someone else take it away for them. I never have been able to figure out what happens to it after. One man's trash is another's treasure and all that, I suppose? Ah, well..."

Mr. Weasley checked left, right, then behind him nearly four times before he was satisfied that there were no spies or muggle stragglers in sight. Not that they would see much of anything if there were. When at least three cars had passed by and he'd finished ducking his head around the mailbox, he turned to her and asked, "You remember what the note said, Harry?"

Harriet did remember, but why had he bothered asking? It was common information to her now that - just as the thought entered her head the Black family mansion inflated in the middle of the Grimmauld complex, pushing the buildings on either side of it out of its way. Mr. Weasley stepped forward and tapped his wand calmly on the black painted door that appeared and in turn it made several loud, metallic clicks.

The two of them entered the warm foyer, shrugging off their coats and hanging them on the antique severed troll leg which served as a rack. Mrs. Weasley could be heard in the kitchen, pans rattling. "WOULD YOU GIVE IT A REST ALREADY? You're worse than the children! You've been under my feet all morning, Sirius, I'm sure they'll be back soon. Remus, tell him they'll be back soon, he doesn't listen to me - what was that? Was that the door?"

Mrs. Weasley's head popped out into the foyer seconds later, flour mixed into her hair and caked generously on her apronless dress. "You're back already? What's happened, is everything alright? I wasn't expecting you back until at least dinner! Oh-oh dear..."

"Let's not talk about it now, Molly," Mr. Weasley warned his wife gently, nudging Harriet in the direction of the stairwell. "You go up to bed, Harry. Get some rest."

Harriet slipped past them both with the intent of doing just that, but Sirius had been anxiously waiting to see her again and had already turned the corner after Mrs. Weasley. He swooped down on her, taking her head in his hands and forcing her to look deep into his eyes so he could see the extent of the damage for himself. Her face burned and she wanted nothing more than for him to let go of her, for him to not be leaning his forehead against her own like that.

She jerked away, but he merely tucked the top of her head under his chin and raised a hand to pet her hair, locking his other arm around her waist. Something horrible tried clawing its way up her throat. The entire forty-five minute journey from the Ministry to the headquarters she'd kept her composer, walking in silence without a thought deeper than the weather in her head after her outburst, but at his pity she felt ready to go off all over again.

"Dumbledore owled just after you left, of _course _you can stay with me." Sirius whispered to her soothingly. "You'll never have to go back to those horrible muggles again, I promise you. It'll be just the two of us, yeah? We'll be alright-"

Harriet pushed him away and he looked as though she'd snapped his heart in two. But she didn't have it in her to feel sorry about it now. "He said I could stay with you, did he?"

"Well, yes, Harry. He did," Sirius answered hesitantly, his face looking suddenly older than before. "Do you not... _want_... to stay with me? If you don't, I... I suppose I understand. I just thought, maybe together we-"

"I'm so relieved he gets to make all of these decisions for me. It's worked out wonderfully for me so far!" If it were for any other reason, she'd have been ecstatic to hear she'd never again return to Privet Drive, but at the thought of needing Dumbledore's permission after all this she was livid. "Go back to the Dursley's after the Tournament, protect myself from dementors because someone's not doing their job, and tell the truth about it at the hearing so he can GIVE them my wand! And now that it's broken in two I can finally live with my godfather. How generous of him to let me stay. He KNEW how important that wand was, how could he DO this-"

"I'm sure he didn't give them your wand, Harry..." Mr. Weasley attempted to reason with her, but she could hear the heat behind it and it only fueled her. "Dumbledore is a smart man who knows what he's doing. You have to trust him. And trust us."

"I did trust you, I trusted you when you said everything was going to be fine. But it wasn't, was it, and I wasn't ready! You didn't see him." Harriet's voice quaked. "He didn't even look at me!"

Or couldn't look at her.

"This is something you can't do on your own, Harry. Whatever happens, you have to work with us. You can't go off shouting at Lucius Malfoy and call him a Death Eater in front of everyone!"

His face went a classic shade of Weasley red. She'd only ever seen Ron look that way at her. "I know you were angry, but what you did today will have serious repercussions."

"Shouldn't of..." Harriet chased him into the dining room where he'd sat down in a chair to toe off his shoes. "That's so easy for you to say. Isn't it? I seem to remember you getting into a fist fight with him in Flourish and Blotts for a whole lot less!"

Mr. Weasley glanced up at her and shook his head. "As much as I'd like to hand him his arse on a platter myself, Harriet, I can't jeopardize what we're all working for here!"

"YOU'RE not the one who has to see him every night in your dreams!" Her voice was ragged by now. "I have to keep reliving that night over and over and over - I see his face, all of their faces, everywhere I go. When you've had Voldemort's wand at your throat, THEN you can tell me I'm overreacting. When you're not sitting alone, afraid of him coming, every second of the day with no one to tell you what's happening, MAYBE. But until then-"

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley came toward her with such a sad, pitying look in her eye. "All we want - all anyone here wants - is what's best for you. Arthur's trying to keep you safe, there's no telling what Lucius could have done to you for that!"

"You kept me in the dark - you drove me insane, you could have KILLED ME like that. You almost did!" Harriet felt all the sicker in her stomach thinking about the betrayal. She was beginning to shake, she knew. "If that's your way of protecting me, it's a bloody joke-"

Mrs. Weasley stood up to her full height. "Now you listen to me, Harry Potter, Dumbledore said-"

"I don't _care _what Dumbledore said. I would have thought you'd have said to hell with him for my sake, but I can see now that I was sadly mistaken." Her arms fell to her sides, exasperated. "It's MY life on the line, and mine to own! I'm not some bird you can trap in a cage and take turns watching to make sure something doesn't come along and eat me! Or a chess piece for you to move around however you like! You want me to trust you? Well, I don't. Not anymore. And there is NOTHING that is going to stop me from fighting back, not even this, so you better get used to it. I want to be a member of the Order. I want to be in every meeting. When I ask a question I expect it to be answered. STOP keeping things from me because you think it'll protect me-"

"The stunt you pulled at the Ministry with Lucius Malfoy is _EXACTLY _why we've been keeping things from you! You're not ready for that much responsibility! You're only a little girl!"

"No, no - Harriet's right. It's the Order's fault she's in this situation in the first place." There was something akin to pride in Sirius' voice as he watched her. He moved forward to place a supportive hand on her shoulder and she begrudgingly let him. "If you want to leave _your _children out of it and have them live in this fantasy world, that's your prerogative. But Harry has more than proven she can handle herself. Hasn't she lost enough to sit at this table?"

"Harriet IS my child! I don't expect you, of all people, to understand how we feel-"

"Really?" Sirius cut her off, shooting her a wolfish grin. "Let's check the papers for that, shall we?"

"Papers do NOT make a family! We have loved this girl as our own since she and Ron were eleven. Every Christmas, every holiday-"

"You're the only parents she's ever known," The strong smell of Lupin's special 'tea' entered the room with him, the man leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with his right leg tucked behind his left. He gave Sirius a pointed look and then turned his attention back to Mrs. Weasley. "This is hard for you, because you love her very much. It's hard for all of us. But Harry is absolutely right. We've been going about this all wrong and she has every right to be angry with us. She has every right to be here."

Mr. Weasley watching worriedly as a united front formed at either side of Harry, Remus flanking and still calmly nursing his mug. Neither with children of their own, of course, and no way to understand _why_ he and Molly did what they did. He visibly deflated, hand coming up beneath his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes. His wife took the look of submission as a personal attack.

"Aren't you going to say something, Arthur?!"

"Sirius, Remus, one of you will have to owl Dumbledore and make him aware of the situation..."

"Don't bother," Harriet told them coolly over Mrs. Weasley's loud cries demanding if they were all mad. "I'll tell him myself."

"That's my girl!" Sirius moved to pat her back in a congratulatory manner, but Harriet had no intention of staying long enough for him to do so. She turned on her heel as the painting of his mother began her usual spiel which shook the house, using her shrieks as well as Mrs. Wealey's as cover to lose herself down an unexplored hallway of the mansion - preferably one where no one would find her.

Before she could fully disappear, she saw a flash of red hair by the railing above her, the twins leaning over it and listening in as best they could with what looked like an ear on a string. Thankfully, they knew well enough to not come after her.

Harriet didn't know what she'd do if anyone tried.

Without her wand, what could she do?

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AN: Thank you all so much for the support and encouragement! Your reviews have really helped shape this story. Feel free to let me know what you think, I try to get back to everybody!


	3. Curse Which Binds

Harriet woke the next morning with a drunken start, blinking up at the cobwebbed covered ceiling of the abandoned study she vaguely remembered locking herself into the night before. She immediately noticed the presence of several fluffed pillows comfortably tucked under her head, a warm blanket draped over her along with it. There was a heavy weight pressed on her hip, something soft caught in her hand, and it wasn't until she opened her eyes that she recognized it to be Sirius masquerading as the ever affectionate Snuffles, snoring soundly with his head in her lap. The demanding letter she'd written to Dumbledore had mysteriously vanished from the coffee table, and she could only think he had something to do with that.

Careful so as not to disturb the sleeping mass of black fur at her side, Harriet sat up and rubbed her eyes awake. Scabbers - or rather, Peter Pettigrew -, wasn't in her pocket or curled up in the palm of her hand. Her parent's murderer wasn't watching her grow up through her best friend as a loving pet with mysteriously missing toes, he wasn't there. The dream wasn't real.

It was impossible to tell from the windows what time it was. Sirius had said they'd been enchanted long ago to only ever show sunny, spring weather all year round, but after so long the magic had worn away. One was stuck on a cold, rainy night and the other was closed in by the reddish-brown brick of the neighboring apartment.

The distinct smell of Mrs. Weasley's cooking hit her nose after a moment, and she knew it was not so early that breakfast wasn't being made. Not wanting to wake Sirius, Harriet tiptoed out of the room, the floorboards creaking in her wake despite all her efforts. The door clicked shut behind her, but there was thankfully no sound of movement beyond it.

Kreacher was out of hiding for once, taking an old wirey brush and scrubbing the walls with what looked like equally old murky water. He looked up and snarled at her, as though she were something very grotesque to look at, and his loose gray skin rippled with new creases.

The house elf only ever made an effort to clean when Sirius ordered him to. Even then he didn't use one ounce of magic to do so, taking hours at a time to complete any task. He'd usually stop and glare at someone until he was kicked out again, leaving the job wholly unfinished. Harriet had the feeling Sirius had asked him to clean up around the study because she was in there, which would easily have explained the increase in hostility toward her.

"Filthy wretch, nosey halfing," he sniped, grumbling so low it was hard to make out the words. "Product of sin she is. Rotten. _Rotten _to the core."

Ordinarily Harriet would have provided him the small kindness of shooing him off back to his hole in the kitchen. She didn't need anybody cleaning up for her sake. But she was already so _fed up_ with him, fed up with everyone. There was only so much she could take. Hermione would have had a conniption if she knew that for even a split second Harriet wanted to kick the elf and see how far he'd go. All over the same pureblood trite he'd been spewing from the second they got there.

"Shouldn't _you_ be cooking our breakfast instead of Mrs. Weasley?" she snapped at him, not at all feeling sorry for wanting to stomp on him anymore as he growled back at her like one of Marjorie Dursley's bulldogs. "Don't you think she has better things to do than pick up your slack?"

"Kreacher does not take orders from the misses yet," he went back to spitefully scrubbing the wall, shaking his head so his wrinkly ears flopped. "Not yet Kreacher doesn't."

"I'd turn you out before you took orders from me." The flash of worry in his eyes assured her she'd hit her mark, but then his features reverted back to their usual sourness all too quickly. In light of the threat, he tossed the brush back into the rusted bucket with a sickening 'plop' and drug his feet all the way down to the other end of the hall. Then he sat down heavily, like a child that'd been scolded. Harriet didn't wait around to see him get back to his orders.

Following the murmur of voices down the winding corridors, Harriet retraced her steps back to the foyer. A low glow stretched out along the floor through the cracked-open door of the dining hall, the only light on in all of the mansion. It really was early, and Harriet wondered if she shouldn't make the trip up the stairs and crawl quietly into bed. At least until everyone else was awake.

"She's only a girl, Remus." At the muffled sound she paused, still as stone.

"I know, better than most of you I'd say. I'm simply telling you that if Harriet thinks it's her only option she'll take it. Once she's decided, I doubt there will be anything we can do or say to change her mind. As I told you before, this is an unnecessary precaution. She won't be leaving without her wand - it shouldn't be brought up to her."

Harriet stepped closer to the light, minding again the creaks in the old floorboards as she moved. She pressed an ear to the wall and held her breath.

"How could he suggest something like this?"

"It wasn't Dumbledore who suggested it... he just gave the order. I don't think he expects her to take it."

"She'll prove him wrong."

"Sirius isn't awake yet. We should wait for him to make the call."

"No. If she wants to start making her own decisions, we'll damn well let her. And if this is what she decides, it'd be better for everyone that he be kept out of it."

"The fact that we're even discussing this is - is - barbaric!" screeched the unmistakable voice of Mrs. Weasley. "If she can't be trusted to behave she may as well be sent to Hogwarts with the rest of them, wand or no wand! She'll be safer there."

"That'd be sending one hell a message to the Ministry."

"She will be safer with Sirius, Molly."

"Like hell she will be. I'd sooner take her home with me than leave her here with him. FIFTEEN years in Azkaban-"

"For a crime that he did NOT commit-"

"And you'll have her living here alone with him! Merlin knows what could be going on in his head."

"You forget I'll be here with them."

"Not all the time!"

"Nothing is going to happen. Sirius cares about Harry, he'd do anything to make up for his absence. He wants to spend this time with her while he can. I cannot believe you would suggest, Molly, that he would _ever-_"

"We trust Sirius. None of us think he'd try to hurt her," Mr. Weasley cut in before his wife could tell them all otherwise. "Besides, sending the girl to a wizarding school without a wand is like throwing a kitten into a pack of lions. I'd... I'd even say it's more cruel than this. At least here she has a chance. She can get some rest. Study. Prepare herself while we figure this out."

Get to know her godfather... her family."

"WE'RE her family, Arthur-"

"She'll be able to leave the place as soon as it's safe to. It's only until the end of the war, or sooner if something comes up. I don't think this is as bad as everyone is setting it out to be. Dumbledore has obviously put a lot of thought into this, he's... setting some ground rules, is all."

"But the Unbreakable Vow... surely you must all agree that it is overstepping our bounds? There must be some spell we can put around the doors and windows-"

"We can't risk her undoing them," said another voice. "And that would shut us all out, would it? Then there's Flu Powder to consider, and portkeys... those are only the popular ones. She could get creative. Real creative. This might not fix the problem, if she's crafty enough. The girl has friends."

"I'm sorry," Having heard enough, Harriet pushed the door the rest of the way open, the sound of it swinging harshly on its hinges evidently earth shattering as heads snapped in her direction. There was Lupin and Mr. Weasley sitting at the table, along with Bill, Mundungus, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Mad-Eye Moody. Mrs. Weasley stood behind her husband, her knuckles going white as she clutched the back of his chair. "The Unbreakable what?"

It became so quiet Harriet could hear Mrs. Weasley grinding her teeth.

"There's no keeping it from her now, I don't think," Lupin said to them all wearily and then looked back at her, an unplaceable expression etched on his weathered face. "Sit down, Harry."

Harriet pulled out the empty chair beside him, watching their solemn expressions closely. She was still sore from the day before, though she didn't want to admit it. "So I can't be trusted to behave then?"

Mr. Weasley's brows furrowed, eyes locking meaningfully with hers, and then in a small voice said, "...No, Harry, I'm afraid not."

"Frankly, we're all very scared for you," said Bill. "You see, Harry... you have a history of... well, putting yourself in the front lines. We're afraid if we tell you _everything _you want to know whenever you want to know it, you'll do something... for lack of a better word, Harry, _heroic_."

"We can't have you running off the second something goes wrong," Mundungus added gruffly. "You running out of the house for who knows what, without a wand, no training - it'd be suicide. And you're too valuable to go and get yourself killed on us."

"Glad to know I'm so valuable now you've got your back alley cauldrons and I've lost the only means of protecting myself." Harriet retorted scathingly, and Mundungus glowered. She should have been blaming the Ministry, Dumbledore, the Order, not him, but her blood was boiling. Was it so wrong to want to help people? To take responsibility for something that half the time she caused?

Looking around at them all, her chest hurt. They thought she was doing it for attention like the Daily Prophet said, didn't they? The people who were supposed to be on her side... "Heroic... you know, if you're so worried about my history you might take a look at my track record as well."

"No one's doubting your ability, Harry. But certainly you must see _why_ this a concern?" Bill asked of her imploringly, worrying his scarred hands on the table.

"If we are expected to meet every expectation you addressed in your letter to Dumbledore last night, your membership, your...participation in this war," Kingsley paused, as if the second half of the sentence was too hard to say to her. "He's going to want you to take the Unbreakable Vow."

"No, no! We haven't decided on that yet," interrupted Mrs. Weasley. "Only dark wizards use the Unbreakable Vow, Harry. It's savage and we won't be using it on you."

"What happened to trusting Dumbledore, mum?" Bill gave his mother a look from the side and she gaped at him.

"_This_ is wrong!"

"And I thought we talked about me not being a bird in a cage." Harriet almost laughed.

"You'd be promising to never leave this house without another member of the Order present with you," Kingsley continued regretfully, as though getting it all out in the open was a requirement. "It's his way of making peace with how you want things. You'd be giving up your freedom for this. And there's not much you can do from behind these walls. I'd tell you it's not worth it."

The entire room went still. All eyes were drawn to Harriet, no one daring to so much as breath lest it influence her decision. It took longer than it should have for the words to sink in, but once they did she was quick to weigh what felt like all the options. "I don't have a wand. There's not much I can do outside of them either." she finally said.

"The Unbreakable Vow is a promise. Sealed by magic," Lupin emphasized in a last ditch effort to reach her. "Harry, if you take one step out that door without one of us with you... you die."

"If I take one step out that door without someone to protect me? I die anyway. Don't lie to me and say I'd be able to leave whenever I wanted, you'd never let me. It's not safe for me anymore. I'd rather be here, in the meetings, than locked up in my room with no way of knowing what's going to happen. If Dumbledore wants me to take the Vow, I'll take it. He can't scare me anymore than I already am. Voldemort's coming for me, and I'm not going to be caught waiting for it. I already told you, nothing is going to keep me from being apart of this."

The silence that fell was deafening.

Finally Mr. Weasley turned to her. "Are you sure about this, Harry?"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley gasped.

"I am." she answered.

"Take his hand then," Mad-Eye's rough voice instructed. At Lupin's questioning look he explained, "It's better if the family does it. They're easier to forgive. Come around. You hold the wand, Remus."

Mr. Weasley's palm, much larger than her own and marred by years of tinkering, laid open on the table. It was spotted with freckles and sunspots, fingers thin and uncurled waiting for her. They were hands so familiar to her that... Harriet moved to lace them with her own. They were clammy and hot, and for a moment she wondered how they'd both ended up there.

Lupin got out of his chair, pulling his wand shakily from his waistcoat pocket. He placed the tip of it in the small space provided where their hands connected.

Mrs. Weasley gave a shudder and paced to the back of the room like a cold wind, putting her head in her hands.

"Harriet Lily Potter, daughter of Lily and James Potter, do you swear," Mr. Weasley swallowed hard. "To never leave Black Manor, unless otherwise escorted by another member of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"I do," A stream of hot, red fire slithered out of Lupin's wand and around their wrists, circling their joined hands in great knots. The rings burst into flames, licking their skin, the crackle echoing Mr. Weasley's words. _Never. _"I swear."

The color turned shimmering gold and then shattered like glass. The pieces evaporated into the air. _Never. _Their hands were still stuck, sweaty and clutching at each other. Mr. Weasley was the first to let go. Lupin tucked his wand away, eyes cast down to the floor.

"That's enough for now. You can tell Dumbledore it's done," said Mr. Weasley coldly as he stood up from the table. He pulled Harriet up gently and into a quick hug. After which he said, "Alright, love. You go back up to bed."

Harriet managed the order this time, trudging up the stairs to her room. Sirius had given her the one just to the right especially, with new enchantments on the windows that changed with the seasons and snow white silk curtains. It seemed to be the only part of the house he had bothered repainting as far as she knew.

Sirius had covered her eyes with his hands that day, lead her up the stairs, and apologized in her ear for it not being quite finished. He'd not been expecting her to arrive so early of course. But he was too excited and pleased with himself to sound truely sorry about it.

Harriet threw herself onto her large bed, pulling down a pillow from above her head and holding it over her face. She'd promised herself she wouldn't cry - not anymore -, and she didn't. She contemplated screaming instead.

_One step out that door... you die._

She'd find some other way. Mood was right; she could be crafty. She had friends. This would be on her terms from now on, not Dumbledore's, but he was free to think that if he wanted.

Harriet knew she needed a plan. This couldn't be like any other time where she'd slipped up under pressure and things somehow magically worked themselves out. She had to be calculative, for once. No distractions. No rash decisions. No mistakes. Lives were in her hands, but that was a stress she'd grown used to over the years.

This was far from over, and Harriet thought that if it was all to get her hands on that monster she'd gladly do it. She had no choice. She had to do it.

Above the headboard hung an empty black canvas, one that normally would have sported a portrait of some witch or wizard, but instead had remained eerily blank for the whole of her stay. It was the last thing she saw before drifting back to sleep, wondering if she'd truly seen the flash of green robes in it or if she really had been driven mad after all.

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AN: Leave me a review and let me know what you think! I've had a real tough time working through all the kinks in this chapter, so any reaction or suggestion is a helpful one. The next chapter should be the end of edits and new for everyone, so stick with me while I get to posting it sometime this weekend!


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